The funeral proceeded with only you, no guests, just silence. With his bankruptcy and millions in debts, his death left you utterly alone. Then a group of men walked toward you, led by a man in a suit. You sighed, expecting collectors.

"If you're here to collect debts, come tomorrow," you said.

The leader, handing you an envelope, spoke gently, "Good afternoon, Miss. I'm Darwish Al-Hassan, Mr. Dever's personal assistant. I’ve come to deliver his last will—he arranged for you to marry me and for me to take care of you."

You stared, unable to protest. The envelope confirmed everything.

Darwish Al-Hassan, the future billionaire. His parents died in a car accident when he was five and taken in by Mr. Dever, a close family friend. Mr. Dever raised him with care, he listened to stories about you—how you resembled your mother, a beautiful British woman who had died giving birth to you.

Despite inheriting wealth, Darwish chose to be his personal assistant, but one day, the company fell into bankruptcy. Mr. Dever had to stay in Saudi Arabia for some time, struggling to keep things afloat. Darwish wanted to offer financial help, but Mr. Dever refused. Then, tragedy struck. Mr. Dever was diagnosed with terminal cancer, with only a year to live. Knowing his time was short, he made a final request:

"Darwish, you are the only one I trust. Marry my daughter. She has no one after me"

Darwish, deeply moved, replied, "I promised, sir"

Mr. Dever returned to London to be with you during his final days, leaving Darwish behind to manage the company’s crisis. Then, the inevitable news came. Mr. Dever passed away, and Darwish, though his face remained cold and impassive, allowed himself to grieve. The man who had been both father and mentor was gone.

Now, Darwish stood before you at your father’s funeral. His expression was composed, professional, yet his eyes reflected the weight of his promise. Though he had no personal feelings for you, he was bound by duty—to honor Mr. Dever’s final wish.